Sabotage

by Jessica Linden

  “Shit. How much did they get?”

  “That’s the weird thing. As far as I can tell from a preliminary scan, it was only your data.”

  “That’s not weird,” Abbie said grimly. “It means it’s personal.”

  Chapter 12

  Her fingers flew over her keyboard. God, it felt so good to finally have a plan of her own in motion.To not be some servile plebian to an, albeit high-paying, overlord.

  Her unit was state-of-the-art. She’d spared no expense, and why should she? Money was no object. She was like a damn rodent, with money stashed in so many different digital hidey-holes that she’d almost forgotten about some of them. Not to mention her bitcoin stash. Putting all her eggs in one basket had never been her thing. She knew well enough to diversify.

  It was so very nice not to worry about money.To have the ability to drop all of her outside projects in order to focus on a personal goal. Eventually she’d probably start taking on jobs again—she’d get bored otherwise—but first, she had to complete this project. It was personal.

  She stopped typing for a moment and stared at the screen in consternation. The little layer of protection was something she hadn’t expected—when had that been installed? It was nothing she couldn’t get past, but it was irritating. She didn’t like surprises, but at least this would be a challenge. The Cartwright Agency was more secure than some of the other top government agencies both in the United States and abroad, and infinitely superior to most corporate systems. She of all people would know.

  Hacking into credit card databases bored her. They weren’t even a fraction as secure as they advertised to their customers. Infiltrating their networks after breaching their firewalls was child’s play.

  The Cartwright agents would figure out she’d fiddled with their systems eventually. She was counting on it. Otherwise, what was the point? She couldn’t wait to see them running around trying to plug the holes she was carefully placing.

  Hopefully that would happen sooner rather than later. At this point, patience was overrated. She was a cat bored with her mouse, ready for the final kill.

  God, she wished she could have seen the look on Agent Whitmore’s face when she learned about the woman at LAX. Was she shocked? Angry? Scared?

  It would have been nice to see that bitch’s face when she was scared. Soon, she wouldn’t have to imagine it. She’d watch it transform in person.

  But for now, it was enough to know that she was getting to Abbie. She knew Abbie, and knew the agent would take the threat at LAX seriously. That’s why she’d arranged it in the first place, after all.

  To push her off her game. Make her feel unsafe.

  She made a few more keystrokes and smiled at the screen. “Hello, Agent Whitmore.”

  Chapter 13

  The woman was the connection. She had to be. But damn it, Abbie wasn’t seeing it. She was missing something.

  In front of her, she had a list of Carew’s known associates. They were mostly low-level players, no one capable of sophisticated criminal activity. They were more the smash-and-grab type. The only one of any interest was the boyfriend—Brian Lewis. Lewis had worked his way up in a mid-level criminal enterprise before he’d been brought in. Right now, he was serving a ten-year sentence, which easily could have been reduced if he’d rolled on his bosses. But he’d refused.

  In a twisted way, Abbie respected that. It was dumb in his case because his bosses would turn on him in a millisecond, but whatever. Loyalty—however misguided—was admirable.

  As usual, she was the last agent at the office other than the few who were pulling overnight duty. She’d sent Sophie home hours ago, even though Sophie had wanted to stay. In the end, she’d had to pull rank to force the agent to pack it in. Sophie was as loyal as they came, and thank God for that, especially now that she was in the middle of this cyber nightmare.

  She turned her attention back to her list, cross-referencing it with another list of inmates Lewis had had contact with. There was only one man whom Abbie had arrested—a pimp who’d beaten one of his girls to death. She’d continue to investigate the connections just to be sure, but she knew in her gut he wasn’t the link.

  Somehow it all came back to her, though. Abbie was convinced that she was the primary target and Jonathan had only been hit as a way to hurt her. And damn it, it had worked. Even if Jonathan forgave her, she’d never forgive herself if this incident cost him his career.

  Maybe she was going down the wrong track by focusing on Carew’s boyfriend. Maybe she needed to widen her search. Abbie had definitely pissed off a lot of people during her long career. How many hundreds of cases had she dipped her finger in?

  It might not even be a criminal she took down. It could easily be someone working to get revenge on someone else’s behalf. But in her gut, that motive didn’t feel quite right. Yet she couldn’t rule it out.

  Hell, she couldn’t rule anything out. She was getting nowhere.

  She’d been shot, had knives held to her throat, and taken a few sucker punches to her face, but she’d never felt more attacked than now.

  She scrubbed her hands over her face. God, she’d never complain that desk duty was boring again. She’d much prefer that to dealing with this mess. Because this absolutely sucked.

  Chapter 14

  “Today?” Abbie clenched her fists tightly and her nails dug into her palms. If anyone but Director Oliver had delivered the news, she’d be railing. Taking time out of her search to brief their PR rep about the Hak Tanir case that was still making headlines did not make her happy. Even though she’d stayed at the office until midnight last night, she hadn’t made any progress. If anything, all she’d done was identify more avenues to investigate.

  “Yes,” the director said tersely. “Somehow, we did not receive notification about the press conference until this morning. You need to head over there immediately.”

  “Damn.” Abbie chewed on her lower lip.

  Director Oliver simply shook her head. “ ‘Damn’ is right. I’m going to find out who is responsible for the communication breakdown.” Abbie would not want to be on the other end of that verbal ass-whooping that was sure to come. Though Director Oliver spoke in subdued tones, she commanded respect and attention. A single cocked eyebrow had once been enough to make a rookie agent burst into tears.

  As far as Abbie was concerned, Sandra Oliver was a goddess.

  “While you’re here,” the director continued, “any updates on the security breach?”

  “No. Whoever is behind this is good. Really good.”

  “Do you believe this incident is connected with Congressman Lassiter’s?”

  Abbie flinched ever so slightly at the mention of Jonathan’s name. She knew the director was aware of her relationship—hell, it was common knowledge thanks to the newspaper’s society column—but it was still odd hearing the director casually bring up her boyfriend. It somehow made her feel unprofessional. Agents were entitled to personal lives and some were even married with families, but it still felt strange.

  Maybe it was because she couldn’t dismiss the nagging question of whether her relationship with Jonathan had negatively affected her career. She wasn’t ready to ask that question, not when she was scared of what the answer might be. Because what if her association with Jonathan really was to blame for the months of desk duty she’d been given?

  “I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “Neither do I, Agent Whitmore, neither do I.” Director Oliver leaned her elbows on the desk in front of her. “You have the full cooperation and resources of the entire agency. We take care of our own.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Now get back to work.”

  She’d been dismissed. Abbie rose and then hesitated at the door. There was one more question she wanted to ask.

  She took a deep breath and turned. “I heard you’re retiring.”

  “Oh? Who’s spreading that rumor?” Director Oliver didn’t sound the least bit surpr
ised and her expression was a perfect poker face.

  “Is it a rumor?”

  Director Oliver steepled her fingers and Abbie braced herself for the tongue-lashing that was surely coming. Instead, the director spoke in her normal, even tone. “Do you think it’s time for me to step down?”

  Abbie shook her head vehemently. “No, of course not. You’re the best the agency has to offer.”

  “Thank you. For years that was all that mattered. And now I’m at the end of a career—a good, solid career—and I have no one to celebrate that with. It makes one stop and think.”

  Abbie was silent for a moment. “Yes, I’m sure it would.”

  This was as personal as Director Oliver had ever gotten with anyone at the agency. She lived and breathed the job. She was the job. She was the idol of all the ambitious agents at the agency, including Abbie.

  It shook Abbie to her core that the director was questioning if it had been worth it.

  “Agent Whitmore?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re dismissed.”

  Chapter 15

  Abbie glanced over her shoulder again, eyeing the other clientele in this hole-in-the-wall restaurant Jonathan had taken her to. If she and Jonathan hadn’t already been dating for months and if their picture wasn’t already all over social media, she’d worry he brought her here because she was his dirty little secret.

  Abbie had never seen the term hole-in-the-wall taken so far. She hadn’t even noticed the door in the nondescript brick wall before Jonathan was pulling her through it. And there were no windows in the front, either. Maybe there were windows in the kitchen. There had to be because of building codes, right?

  Either way, it was a little creepy.

  “Relax,” Jonathan said. “I’ve been coming here for years and no one’s ever looked at me twice. And even though they know me by name, I don’t think they understand who I am.”

  Abbie cocked an eyebrow at him, but so far, he was right. There was no indication from either the staff or the other patrons that they realized they were in the presence of a congressman—and a very important one at that.

  Jonathan told her this place was Washington’s best kept secret—the best Chinese food inside the beltway. One bite of a vegetable egg roll had erased all her apprehensions. She should have never doubted her boyfriend.

  When they sat down, Jonathan had flashed his signature smile that made women weak in the knees and said, “You should feel special that I brought you here. This is a big step.”

  “Bigger than asking me to move in?” Abbie retorted without thinking.

  Shit! She wasn’t ready to tackle that discussion, especially not with everything else they had on their plate right now. Plus, things were still a little weird between them since their fight about her digging into Ed Bringle’s background. It was like they’d silently agreed to a truce on that argument, but the tension remained, just under the surface, straining to break free.

  Jonathan gave her a bland look. “Let’s put it this way. If we ever part ways, I will fight you for custody of this place.”

  Abbie laughed, relaxing a little. Thank God Jonathan hadn’t taken the moving-in-together conversation bait she’d accidentally cast out. But that was one of the things she loved about him. He understood her in a way that no one else ever had.

  But even though he was a patient man, he wouldn’t wait for her forever.

  Their server came by to refill their water glasses and Abbie waited until she’d left before her expression turned somber. She hated to spoil the light mood, but it had to be done.

  “Have you learned anything new?” she asked.

  He didn’t need her to elaborate—he knew exactly what she was referring to. It was never far from either of their minds. And though she knew he’d tell her if his team had found anything, she had to be sure.

  Jonathan frowned. “No. Nothing.”

  Abbie sighed. “Me, neither.”

  “This guy is a ghost.”

  “No, he’s not,” Abbie retorted, sticking her chin out. It galled her that whoever was behind this was getting the better of them, even if it was temporary. “Don’t give him more credit than he deserves. He’s only human. And when I find him—which I will—I’m going to punch him in the throat.” She paused. “And then knee him in the nuts for coming after me in such an underhanded way. What a little bastard. Why can’t he face me like a man?”

  Jonathan held up his water glass and tapped it against hers in a cheers. “Ever so classy, Agent Whitmore. Although in this case, I have to agree.”

  It’s about time he agreed to my way of doing things. Since the beginning, he’d fought against her methods. Once they were past the Hak Tanir situation, it hadn’t mattered since they were no longer working together. But now…

  Now Abbie wondered if they could really have a future. Or were their approaches to life too different?

  But now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

  “The Cartwright agents were working on it all afternoon, but we still don’t have anything. And the woman from the airport still isn’t talking.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t know anything. Maybe she bought the passport on the black market and isn’t actually connected to you.”

  Abbie shook her head. “I don’t think so. Whoever set it up knew she’d get caught. Wanted her to get caught. He’s taunting me.”

  Abbie didn’t say what her gut was telling her—that the trouble Jonathan was facing was her fault. The perp was using him as a weapon against Abbie.

  Jonathan sipped his water, saying nothing. He was smart, so Abbie knew he’d come to the same conclusion if he hadn’t already.

  But she also knew he was too good of a man to blame her.

  Maybe even too good of a man for her, period.

  Was she capable of being a congressman’s wife? She couldn’t even let herself think about the potential for being a first lady. Did she want that burden? Because that’s what it seemed like it would be—a burden. Could their relationship handle all that stress? And where did that leave her career? The line between her professional and personal lives was already blurry as hell.

  She prided herself on keeping a professional distance at work. Her last case had become personal, simply because Jonathan mattered to her. And now this case was definitely personal. She didn’t like the trend. It made it hard to stay objective. But she sure as hell wasn’t handing this case over to someone else. There was too much at stake. She trusted her fellow agents, but she needed to be in control, especially now when so many things in her world were slipping out of her grasp.

  Abbie had no doubt that she would catch this guy. She’d consulted the agency’s criminal profiler, and they were in agreement. This man wanted her to know he was the one responsible for making her life hell. It was probably motivated by revenge—and it killed her that she still didn’t know what the hell it was for—but part of it was also probably a display of ego. He needed to show Abbie he was better than her.

  He’d make himself vulnerable sooner or later, and Abbie and her fellow agents would nail his ass to the wall. She just hoped she could somehow minimize the damage until then.

  Chapter 16

  Jonathan stiffened at the sight of the reporter leaning against his car outside the restaurant. He was dressed in a cheap suit and had a haphazard camera crew with him.

  But it wasn’t the sight of that man that bothered him. No, it was the half dozen other camera crews surrounding his car.

  Beside him, Abbie tensed. She inhaled and he could practically hear her teeth grinding.

  Jonathan’s hand let go of Abbie’s hand to tighten his tie, a defensive reflex. Abbie might use Kevlar as armor, but he used his image.

  They waded through the reporters, ignoring the questions and the microphones thrust in their faces. However, the one reporter was still leaning on his car.

  “Excuse me,” Jonathan said, trying to reach around the reporter for the car door. Might as well try to avoid the sit
uation. Luck might be on his side.

  But of course it wasn’t.

  The reporter straightened and gestured to his camera crew to make sure they were getting this. “Congressman Lassiter, can you tell us about the embezzlement charges?”

  “My office has already issued a statement to the media, so you can kindly refer to that.”

  “Yes, I’ve read it. I was hoping you could provide something a little more substantial.”

  The man shoved the microphone so close to Jonathan’s face that he had to take a step back to avoid contact. The other reporters and camera crews looked back and forth between them, as if they were watching a ball at a tennis match.

  “No comment. Please excuse me.”

  The reporter did not budge, and Jonathan fought the urge to curl his hands into fists. He wanted nothing more than to use his newly acquired hand-to-hand skills to knock this guy’s lights out. But he was all too aware of the cameras surrounding them.

  “Don’t you think the people deserve to know what happened to their hard-earned money that they contributed to your campaign?”

  “Sir, I really must be going.”

  “Congressman, you owe it to the people to explain. You stole money and you need to answer for that.”

  “No comment.” Jonathan smiled tightly and reached around the man to open the car door. He’d tried being nice. If he had to force his car door open with the man still against it, then so be it.

  The reporter latched onto his arm. “Oh, I see. You’re too important to answer questions for the little people.”

  Jonathan let out a breath and opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get any words out, Abbie removed the man’s hand from Jonathan’s arm and placed herself between them, putting her hand to the reporter’s chest to stop any more advances.

  “It’s time to move along,” she ordered. “You have been asked and your actions are now bordering on harassment. That hand you laid on the congressman can be classified as assault.”